It seemed to all present as if the animal had just arisen from a sound sleep. There was no indication in its manner that it had undergone any new or unusual treatment.
It was strange! It was more than strange—it was marvelous!
No longer was there any doubt in the mind of either Craft or Hathaway. The theory had been plainly and truly demonstrated. Cobb had become possessed of a power unknown to any other living man. What would he do with this power? was the question that immediately came to the mind of each. Would he use it for good, or for evil? Was it a play-thing that he had discovered? or had he worked out this problem for some great and grand undertaking?
“What next?” inquired Hathaway. “What is the next act in this drama?”
“To bed,” said Cobb, glancing up at the clock. “It is now ten minutes past one. To-morrow evening meet me here. Say nothing, not even a word, about what you both have witnessed and heard to-night. Have I your word?” he asked, inquiringly.
“Yes, certainly,” they replied together; “if you wish us not to speak of it.”
“I do indeed wish it, and trust that nothing will cause you to divulge a single part of this evening’s occurrences. Good-night!”
Shaking their hands at the door, he again said good-night as they descended the stairway.
Returning, he filled the grate with more coal, and threw himself down, without undressing, upon the cot in the corner of the room. A moment later, the deep sound of his breathing and the low purring of the cat on the rug were the only sounds heard in the room.